


with fire dancing at the fingertips

by červień (VioletSauce)



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Character Study, Gen, POV Outsider, Reincarnation, Sort Of, and how much they loved each other, it's very important to me how much Syaoran and Sakura loved Tsubasa, the character tags are really messed up for this franchise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletSauce/pseuds/%C4%8Dervie%C5%84
Summary: Li Yelan traces the life of her only son until the birth of his own son.
Relationships: Li Sakura/Li Syaoran (Tsubasa), Sakura | Tsubasa Clone/Syaoran | Li Tsubasa Clone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	with fire dancing at the fingertips

Li Yelan is a proud woman, and she is especially proud of her family. She leads, does magic, gives birth to four daughters in one go because she never knows how to not overdo it, then gives birth to a son, and she and her husband settle at that. Her daughters are brilliant, all radiant in magic and in life, good students and teachers both, when the time comes. They can laugh, and dance, and slip a lie in between careful truths in such a way that even she won’t notice, devilishly clever, every one of them, and Yelan is proud of them, even if she, unlike her husband, doesn’t show that pride so openly.

Her son is very special too. He rarely cries as a baby and seems to understand everyone around him with no problem, no matter how difficult the words they use are. He excels at his studies from very early on and is a solemn child, almost sad, when she looks at him when he feels that he’s alone with his thoughts. And yet, he is quick to smile when around family – a real smile, Yelan can tell, because for all that Syaoran is a little adult already, he’s a hundred years too young to fool her still. His sisters love him, and he loves them in return, so much. His smile is always almost too bright, his eyes almost too loving, his hugs almost painfully tight, like he’s scared that one morning he’ll wake up and they will no longer be there. It’s disquieting, she has to admit, but Syaoran seems to be as aware of her as she is of him, and always tells her with the warmest smile, “I am doing well, mother.” She is worried nevertheless, but her worry is soothed with a simple reassurance. 

Still, there are strange things about him she can’t help but notice. Like when her husband hires tutors for Syaoran, to teach him different languages. He is a natural in them, taking to new tongues quicker than almost anyone both of them know. But when it comes to Japanese, it’s almost like the boy already knew it and just needed to re-familiarize himself with the sounds and the words. Or like when strange tongues she’s never heard spoken in the world (this world) fall from his mouth when he’s agitated or in pain. Yelan notes every strangeness, tucks them all away in her mind, compiles a patchwork of the boy that her son is, the familiar stranger that she’s known his whole life.

One day Syaoran, strangely shyly, tells her he wants to learn archaeology in the future and travel a lot, and when she doesn’t discourage him, he starts chattering about all the different small facts about the field that she didn’t know before. It’s the most excited she’s seen him, perhaps, ever, and so she re-thinks her plans for the clan. It’s fine, the Li family is not a small one and any of her children would be capable of leading it when she is ready to step down. She thought it would be Syaoran, was subtly angling him in that direction, but if his passion lies in something else, she cannot stop him from it any more than she can stop the Earth’s rotation.

Syaoran is not quite restless, she wouldn’t say, but there is a quality to him, that of earning, of looking, like he’s searching for something – or someone. More than once, she finds him in the middle of a fortune telling, or a peculiar location ritual, one of his sisters holding his hand as he breathes over the elements, fire in the center, always fire.

(Syaoran takes easily and readily to elemental spells, but fire comes to him easiest of all, the first, the strongest, a natural companion.)

Yelan ignores how dejected he becomes after those rituals, presuming that he’ll come to her when, if, her help is needed. It turns out in the end that it’s not – one day her teenage son rushes home, son long set and the moon and stars illuminating the surroundings. He is breathless, but not just from running, Yelan can see. There is a sort of happiness, and elation to him that she doesn’t think she’s seen in Syaoran ever. She settles back to observe, not obstructing him in any way. He is similarly absent from early morning and until way past sunset for the next few days, the same exhilaration persistent in him. After a week he’s back, more or less, and Yelan presumes that whatever the object of his happiness was, it’s gone now, away or temporarily unreachable. She is, nevertheless, happy that her son doesn’t lose his newly gained sunniness.

She spoke too soon about unreachability, she decides soon, as then the calls start. The landline is occupied several hours a way, all by Syaoran alone, and she makes a point not to eavesdrop, but sometimes happy whispers and giggles reach her ears when she walks past the room he’s in. His sisters tease him for hogging the phone and jokingly speculate on the reasons why; he blushes at their teasing but the look in his eyes is pure resolve.

Yelan is content to leave Syaoran to his talks, except one day he makes her miss an important call by occupying the phone, so she calls him up and looks at him, taking in his sheepish expression with the same underlying resolve, and can only sigh and say, “Well, when are your father and I meeting this person?”

Syaoran blinks, mouth opened slightly in confusion, like her words were the last thing he would have expected. He opens his mouth further, looking like he’s prepared to give a thorough explanation for his behavior, but all that comes out is, “Mother?”

Yelan gives him a level stare and says, rebuke evident in her voice, “Whoever it is that has such an effect on my son, I naturally want to meet. Your father, probably even more so. So, when are you bringing them over for us to meet?”

Syaoran still has that wide-eyed look but it softens into that kind of unique warmth that Syaoran only ever shown family members. He thinks over his next words carefully, before stopping on, “I would, but... she is not from Hong Kong, mother. Sakura is from Japan.”

“Well, bring her over anyway, when she can come,” Yelan purses her bright red lips to hide her confusion. “I will gladly cover her ticket to Hong Kong and her stay here.”

Syaoran’s eyes fly open again, and Yelan frowns even more; did her son think she would not do this for him? For his happiness? Visibly shocked, he stutters out, “Yes, mother,” and excuses himself.

Later, Yelan pores over her conversation with her son. He mentioned a name, she remembers with a piercing clarity. Sakura. She doesn’t know how her son came to possess the knowledge, the foresight, but memories of Syaoran always asking to go see sakura in bloom come to her mind. So do the memories of the rituals Syaoran undertook, fire always the center, but also, a sakura petal. Yelan decides not to think on it further, not now at least. She has a mystery girl that seems to have stolen her son’s heart to meet.

In a few months, Kinomoto Sakura arrives to Hong Kong, chaperoned by her elder brother, Touya, as their father is busy. The two stay at a rented property not far from their home, so they visit often – almost every day, in fact – and Yelan has a lot of time to observe her son and this girl. Syaoran shines brighter than the fire he can summon to his hand at will and seems to be just as ever-burning in Sakura’s presence. She is not much different, illuminated by her inner power whenever the two of them are together, looking like she’s about to sprout two bright luminous wings and take off the ground, taking Syaoran with her. Yelan knew before that Syaoran wasn’t just infatuated, that this was something bigger, stronger, but seeing it like that, the depth of her son’s feelings and his intentions as clear as day even in the face of Touya’s completely unconcealed contempt – well, it makes her think over her plans and alter them once more.

“Sakura possesses a strong magic and an incredible sight,” Yelan tells him when the Kinomoto siblings have flown back to Japan again. “She is very talented and has a lot of potential.”

She leaves that hanging in the air between them, waiting for Syaoran to shake off his moroseness. He does, quickly, and blinks up at her, questioning with bated breath, “Mother?..”

Yelan doesn’t reply for a while, studying her only son’s face as his anticipation mounts, before giving a sharp nod. “I approve.”

She walks off at that, leaving him to contemplate this.

It is not a big surprise to her when Kinomoto Sakura moves to Hong Kong to continue her education here, and she and her son are completely inseparable from that point on. In time, several years later, Syaoran approaches her again, expressing his intent to marry, an implied request to re-confirm her approval. Yelan didn’t lie then, all those years ago, when she said that Sakura was a fantastic match for the family due to her magic, and that opinion didn’t change. Besides, she doesn’t think she could keep Syaoran from going through with it even if she wanted to, the boy would probably run off with his beloved and elope, abandoning his place in the family. Such is her son, Yelan knows.

The two marry in light, happiness, and flowers, all their family present. They are so in love and so happy, but there is almost a devastation visible in the way they cling to each other, like they never expected to be able to do this, to have this. Like every second of their life together is a gift, precious. Syaoran’s sisters and Sakura’s brother both see this, too, and the former tone down their teasing, gently hugging the pair and whispering blessings and congratulations, and the latter looks at his sister’s husband in a new light, for the first time approaching him without contempt.

As expected, Sakura fits incredibly well in the family: she does fortune telling with Shiefa and Fuutie, deciphers visions with Feimei, participates in rituals with Fenren, and meditates with Yelan. She learns from them and teaches them in kind, her uniquely intuitive magic all the training she really needs to stand on equal footing with her husband.

In time, Sakura becomes pregnant, and the whole clan is overcome with excitement not seen in years, stronger than even that before their wedding. The pregnancy is not difficult, but the childbirth is; Yelan herself stays in the chambers while it’s happening and guides her magic where it’s needed, protecting and helping – this is her first grandchild and she is not losing them nor their mother.

Li Tsubasa is laid in the arms of the exhausted mother and quickly swarmed by cheerful relatives, already sure to be spoiled rotten by aunts and uncles alike, first child of his generation that he is. Sakura gives a smile that is simultaneously ecstatic and heartbroken, and Yelan’s heart clenches.

“Looks exactly like Syaoran did as a baby, doesn’t he, Yelan?” her husband exclaims as soon as its their turn to come closer to the child. Something in Yelan freezes, connections snapping in place in her mind unbidden, but with an exhale, forcefully, she pushes all those thoughts out. Now is not the time. Perhaps, it will never be the time, not until all that is preordained comes to pass.

“He does indeed,” she agrees, reaching out to caress the child’s cheek with the back of her index finger. He sleepily opens his eyes, gazing at her without really seeing, and his nascent magic responds to her gentle probing. Where Syaoran’s magic is a flame, a fire kindling just underneath his skin, her grandson’s magic is lightning, dancing all over his body, jumping outside only to hide back inside, as though shy.

“Well,” Sakura huffs in lieu of laughter, like they've just told her the biggest joke in the world, clearly tired but content, “that is only to be expected. After all, he is his father’s son.”

The overwhelming happiness in her daughter-in-law’s eyes soothes Yelan’s disorganized thoughts. The girl brings the child closer to herself and presses her lips to the top of his head, then murmurs, “And everything will definitely be alright. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello! is this fandom still alive??? I recently remembered that I never finished TRC (I dropped out way before Tokyo so I had no idea what I was walking in, really), so I decided to remedy that and I'm???? in so much pain??? but it's so good and I loved every minute of it. so because chapter 223 broke and then rebuilt me, my fingers have been itching to write this. my knowledge of CCS is admittedly very shallow, so I hope I didn't mess up Yelan too much, but this is a different world anyway, so blame the multiverse, if anything.  
> I'll probably write more in this fandom because this series is not letting go of me for a while... and if you're here from my SW fics, those aren't abandoned, I'll be working on them when my current workload lets up a little bit!  
> anyway, thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! let me know what you think :)


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